


Big Bad White Wolf

by EmbroideredCurseWords



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare afterwards cuz I’m not a monster, Be smart., But make it sappy at the end, Don’t do that., Established Relationship, Geralt is too talkative to really be all that in character, Gratuitous Smut, I call Geralt the Wolf or the Witcher way too many times, I’m almost as horny for size kink as I am for alliteration, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Probably out of character but whatever we’re vibing, Roleplay, Spit As Lube, You’re gonna fuck up your ass in the not fun way., but Jaskier isn’t supposed to know his name so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmbroideredCurseWords/pseuds/EmbroideredCurseWords
Summary: Little Red... er Blue Riding Hood has found himself lost in the woods! Whatever shall he do? He’d be totally helpless to any Big Bad Wolf who came along! (Emphasis on the came) I sure hope no horny Witcher stalks these woods!A.K.A. Geralt and Jaskier have a good ole sexy time playing along with a common folktale involving a helpless damsel and a Big Bad White Wolf.//Trigger Warnings include: Dubcon play(but it’s just play. All sex is safe, sane, and consensual), size kink(always, I have a problem), rough sex, language, anal sex, some dirty praise, some dirty humiliation, mention of mating kink but it’s not possible as Jaskier is a cismale and Geralt is of course sterile, possessive sex talk.\\
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 177





	Big Bad White Wolf

Julian pulled his cloak tighter around himself to protect against the chill. It was getting dark quickly, and he became more and more nervous as time ticked on. He’d been so sure about the path earlier that afternoon, but he knew he should have reached the next town by now. His anxiety hit a high with a loud growling coming from the thick trees surrounding him.

He whipped his head around, desperately looking for the source of the threatening noise. He couldn’t see anything through the inky darkness. The trees above did a good job of blotting out the night sky, not even allowing Julian the comfort of the moon and stars. The darkness now felt suffocating, and Julian could hardly think straight from the fear. The growl returned, sounding more like a roar. The trees shook as the roar got louder and louder.

The viscount jerked himself into a run with a gasp. He could almost hear thundering steps behind him, moving so quickly that he couldn’t tell how many steps were being taken. Whatever was chasing him kept getting closer, only to allow Julian to pull ahead. With a sick feeling, he realized that it was playing with him.

Julian kept running, despite his legs and lungs burning. Once the beast let him pull ahead, he threw himself at a tree, desperately trying to climb quickly. He managed to pull himself up onto the first limb before a deep chuckle sounded at the base of the tree. Julian chanced a confused look down, which slowed his progress. He was yanked easily out of the tree and onto his back. The air was knocked out of him as he hit the ground with a small “oof.”

Wheezing, Julian managed to look up at his pursuer. He gasped at the beast’s cat-like yellow eyes, stark white hair, pale skin, and scars. He was huge and imposing, muscles stretching out the meager clothes worn under the heavy pelts and hides of exotic beasts. The medallion on his chest was engraved with a snarling wolf. This was no man. This was a Witcher... and Julian was in danger. He tried to beg for his life, but only one word escaped his gasping lips.

“Please-!” The Witcher chuckled darkly, squatting down to stare down menacingly at the young man.

“Careful, boy. That’s an awfully open-ended plea.” A ridiculously large, calloused hand enclosed around one of Julian’s ankles, ensuring that the viscount couldn’t go anywhere. Julian swallowed hard.

“Please, let me go.” The Witcher’s smirk became a sneer.

“You beg so beautifully, little bird. I’m not sure I can.” Julian paled considerably, body naturally leaning away from the Witcher. “What is your name?”

Julian glanced away nervously. “Why do you want to know?”

The Witcher snorted. “Humor me.”

Julian couldn’t meet his eyes. “They call me Jaskier.” Not technically a lie, but certainly not a truth. The Witcher’s hand tightened on his ankle before pulling the smaller man closer along the ground. In a panic, Julian yelped. “Wait!!” The Witcher raised an eyebrow in question. “What-uh, what’s your name?” He was met with a smirk.

“They call me the White Wolf.” Julian positively shook. The Witcher yanked him up by his waist, Julian crying out in fear as he was smashed against the Witcher’s chest. The White Wolf stood, taking Julian along with him. Julian struggled, beating his fists against the muscular chest in question. The White Wolf didn’t seem to notice as he trudged deeper and deeper into the forest.

Julian focused his efforts on squirming, which seemed more annoying to the Witcher. So annoying, in fact, that he was dropped onto the dirt below. His wrists were grabbed just as quickly and bound together with rope. As he was restrained, Julian saw the path he should have been on the entire time. He had only been a couple minutes away from salvation the whole time. He choked out a sob as he was slung over the Witcher’s shoulder.

“Please, where are you taking me?” He felt a stinging slap on his ass and yelped as the Witcher chuckled. After what felt like an eternity, he was dropped onto something soft. He struggled to sit with his hands bound, but noticed the pelts beneath him.

The Witcher dropped a small bag off by the pile and gathered close by logs and sticks. He quickly assembled a small fire, his eyes never leaving the viscount who shivered under his burning gaze. Once the fire was fully stoked, the White Wolf stalked towards Julian... er, Jaskier. Said man scrambled backwards, forgetting about the wrists and falling onto the pelts behind him.

The Witcher laughed darkly, easily holding Jaskier’s wrists in one of his large hands. Jaskier whimpered as the Witcher straddled his thighs, keeping his legs squeezed together. The Wolf just looked him over for a minute, Jaskier becoming more and more panicked underneath him. Jaskier let out a frightened whine and then cowered back as that only seemed to light a fire behind the Wolf’s eyes. His wrists were squeezed even tighter, but Jaskier bit his bottom lip to try and stifle the sounds that the Wolf craved. That obviously displeased the Witcher who grabbed Jaskier’s jaw with his free hand, squeezing just hard enough that the viscount’s mouth had no choice but to open.

The White Wolf admired the younger man’s red, wet lips and the little panting breaths that left his mouth. He let his eyes trail up the flushed cheeks to Jaskier’s frightened blue eyes. He felt a surge of arousal looking down at the helpless man. With a growl, the Wolf rolled his hips forward to grind into the soft thighs beneath him. The young man was thin, but his thighs and plump rear end held softness common in higher-ranking families. The animal within the Witcher admired his hips, despite the mating attraction being impossible. Still, the Wolf was more than willing to fuck Jaskier for his pleasure alone.

He pulled Jaskier’s wrists farther upwards, admiring the man stretched out beneath him. Jaskier wriggled and writhed in the Wolf’s grip, which only managed to rub himself up against the Witcher’s groin. A deep growl rattled through Jaskier’s whole being as the Witcher’s eyes became almost fully black with arousal. Jaskier whined as the larger man rolled his hips again and again. A particularly hard thrust made Jaskier gasp and keen. The Witcher snarled in victory.

Jaskier became light-headed as he was yanked upwards into a searing kiss. He bit at the Witcher, but he barely managed to break skin, and before blood could be drawn the Wolf had healed. He was then dropped back onto the pelts. The Wolf easily snapped the cloak open and let it fall onto the bed of pelts. Jaskier whined and wriggled, his hips grinding more up and into the Witcher rather than trying to push the large man off of him.

The Wolf pulled a knife out from gods know where and set it against Jaskier’s chest. He sucked in a breath, the silver heavy against his chest. With a few quick cuts, Jaskier’s lovely blue overcoat fell to scraps. That snapped him out of his horny fog. He cried out indignantly.

“You bastard! What have you done to my lovely-“ he was cut off by the Witcher cutting away his shirt as well. “No! Stop that! My beautiful clothes-“

The Wolf growled, and it sounded like a warning. Unfortunately, Jaskier wasn’t listening as he was far too upset about his lovely powder blue, beaded coat. “I can’t believe you.. you brute!”

He was met by a sharp slap to the thigh and another growl. He continued to buck and struggle against his captor, who had just about had enough of the little bird. Within seconds, the Wolf had Jaskier flipped over onto his stomach, his trousers ripped out the back, and yanked down to his knees. It was a compromising position, to be sure. It sobered Jaskier up considerably. He cried out at two quick slaps to his backside, one on each cheek.

“If you don’t behave, I’ll bend you over my knee and spank your ass red. Do you understand?” Jaskier tried to nod, but was met with two more hard slaps.

“Ah-yes! Yes, I understand! Please-ah!” He was interrupted by another round of slaps. His eyes began to tear up at the constant stinging and he let out a cry before the Witcher stopped. “I did what you said! Why?”

He heard a deep chuckle behind him before the Witcher leaned forward, his breath tickling Jaskier’s ear and sending a cascade of goosebumps down his body. “I wanted to. And you’ll find, little bird, that a Wolf does whatever he wants.”

Jaskier shivered under the weight of the statement and the much larger man. “Would you like to know what I want from you?”

The trapped ‘little bird’ couldn’t help but nod. The waiting was tortuous. The Wolf seemed to be taking his time with him. Jaskier felt two hands begin to knead his bare ass before spreading his cheeks. He shivered as the cold night air hit his most private of parts. He tried to hold back a whine, but failed. The Witcher spat directly onto Jaskier’s hole, then roughly rubbed it into the puckering skin.

Jaskier was nearing hyperventilation at this point. As the Witcher spat for the second time, he reached around to shove two fingers into Jaskier’s mouth. The bard couldn’t help but to slobber all over the thick digits, and the Wolf pulled his head back, choking him on the fingers. Breath tickled Jaskier’s ear again as the Wolf growled low and dangerous like a thunderstorm. And just like thunder, Jaskier could feel the vibrations from said growl rattle around his chest and shake his very heart.

The Wolf’s intentions were now quite clear. In case they weren’t clear enough, the deep and gravel tone reinforced them. “I am going to fuck you, little bird. I am going to fuck you until you’re crying, and then I am going to fill you up with my seed.”

Jaskier wailed around the two fingers that propped his mouth open. The Witcher bit hard into his shoulder, surely leaving a deep mark and perhaps drawing blood. The fingers were removed from his mouth, and the sound of buckles being unbuckled and clothing being removed filled Jaskier’s ears. Suddenly, the Witcher circled a finger around his spit-wet hole before pushing at the entrance. Jaskier sobbed out a sentence.

“Please! Please, I’ve never been with a man before!”

 ~~Geralt~~ The Witcher suppressed an amused chuckle at the theatrics before sobering up and snarling back at his trembling bard. “Then your purity is mine and mine alone.” He gave a sharp slap to the plush ass below him for good measure.

Jaskier moaned and whined as the Witcher fingered him open. First one finger, then another. Fast enough to keep the burn just this side of pleasant. When a third was added, Jaskier tossed his head back with a gasp, unable to stop himself from thrusting back onto the finger. The Witcher chuckled darkly, snarling in his ear. “Look at you. What a little slut.”

“No-oh!! No m’ not!” Jaskier wasn’t making a good case for himself, of course. Not while he continued to roll his hips back onto the fingers penetrating him. Suddenly, they were removed. Jaskier let out a desperate whine, his hips still rolling back uselessly. The Witcher stilled his hips and pressed his cock against the hole.

“Admit it, little bird. You want my cock.”

“N-no! I don’t!” The Witcher chuckled, slapping his ass once more and watching the reddened flesh jiggle.

“Then perhaps I’ll leave you here, tied up.” Jaskier yelped and shook his head.

“No no no! Please, please!”

“Admit that you want my cock. Beg for it.” Jaskier screwed his eyes shut and stuttered.

“Please, White Wolf. I want your... I want you.”

“You’ll have to do better than that, little bird.” Another two slaps landed hard on Jaskier’s ass. “Sing for me, lovely.”

Jaskier whined. “Please fuck me! I want your cock so bad, please! I need your cock! Please fuck me hard, Witcher!”

The Wolf let himself sink into the lovely bard below him. With each inch, Jaskier cried out and squirmed in his grip. Once seated, they both sat panting for a moment before Jaskier’s teasingly coy voice rang out. “You’re so big, Witcher!”

Geralt took that as a subtle nod. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back home. Jaskier arched his back as the thrusting became faster and harder. His mouth hung open as moans and gasps were fucked out of him. Jaskier’s forearms hit the ground to try and brace against the thrusts. He was pulled back onto the Witcher’s cock before the strength of the fucking sent him forwards, only to be yanked back. He’d sang thousands of songs and composed almost a hundred, but the sound of skin slapping on skin was somehow more catchy. The Witcher’s fingers were certainly leaving bruises where they gripped onto his hips, but Jaskier still managed to squirm in his grip.

“Look at yourself. Deflowered and debauched by a Witcher. I’ll ruin you for anybody else, little bird. I’ll ruin you till you’re just mine.”

“N-no! Please!” At this point, Jaskier could get an acting job on stage, he was getting pretty good. He moaned despite his words and rolled his hips for good measure. That punched a groan out of his Witcher. One point for Jaskier, about a hundred for Geralt.

“Perhaps I’ll keep you locked up, just for me. Or perhaps I’ll wait until I’m ravenous again. Then you’d have no idea when to expect me.”

Jaskier felt the tingle up his spine at the possibility of the Wolf finding him and taking him again. But the Wolf didn’t know his real identity due to his quick thinking earlier. He could always run on home to be protected, and the Witcher would have no idea where to look. The Wolf chuckled at his wailing and bucking before doubling his efforts and leaning down to growl in his prey’s ear. 

“Mmm, think I’ll just have to keep you with me so I can take you wherever and whenever I want... Julian.” 

Jaskier came hard with a drawn out whine of ‘Geralt!’ The Witcher groaned at the clenching muscles, enjoying how much tighter it felt before fucking hard once.. twice.. three times and cumming hard inside of Jaskier. 

“Now you’re all mine, little viscount. I’ll take you how I please.” Jaskier shuddered at the threat, but it was perfectly welcome. Geralt gently pulled out before reaching over to grab the bag full of aftercare items. 

He gently wet a washcloth with water from a skin, gently cleaning Jaskier who was now boneless. As the bard took deep breaths and came to terms with his new, bone-free body, he lazily flopped over onto his back and grinned at Geralt. 

“The Big Bad Wolf really isn’t so bad, hm?” 

Geralt snorted before pulling a fresh set of clothes from the bag. Jaskier made a face at the prospect of trying to get dressed post-bone removal. His Witcher rolled his eyes, but dressed the bard anyways. He’d do anything for the high maintenance bard, after all. Especially after such a vigorous game of pretend. 

After pulling on some soft pants himself, Geralt rose to stoke the fire. Jaskier watched his muscles greedily, though he was definitely not up for another round. Geralt wore far too many shirts in his opinion. Although, any amount of shirts was too many. Soon enough, the fire was roaring and Roach had been retethered closer to the camp. She had a terrible way of looking at them judgmentally if they ever got down to it in front of her, so they’d taken to moving her away from camp before any fun. 

Geralt settled back down on the pelts, opening his arms for Jaskier as he snuggled into them. The bard pressed a few sweet kisses onto his Witcher’s bare chest. He was answered with a contented hum. It seemed that Geralt had talked himself dry tonight. Still, he’d talked significantly more than usual during sex, as Jaskier had ever so subtly demanded in the planning of this little scene. 

“That was incredible, Geralt. You really are the most passionate of men when you want to be.” Geralt sighed, but it sounded more fond than irritated to Jaskier now. “But seriously... I love you, darling. Thank you for fulfilling my fantasies.” 

“Anything for you, Jask.” The bard smiled against his White Wolf’s chest. He figured that meant ‘I love you’ in Witcher-speak. As he drifted peacefully into sleep with Geralt tracing light patterns on his bare shoulders, he heard the quietest rumble from his Witcher. So quiet, that the next day he would believe he dreamt it. 

“I love you... little bird.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope this isn’t too out of character or anything but then again, it is just an excuse for me to imagine Big Bad Geralt so here we are. Let me know what you think!


End file.
